Sinball
by EXNativo
Summary: You don't tend to get much quality television down in Hell. So when your tyrannical ruler's downfall is about to be broadcasted live, it may be the time to set the VCR and silence the screams of the condemned.


Alright. For this fic, there was legitimately no way to be completely serious. Normally I don't need an excuse, but this time I felt like my talents were… obsolete.

It was ridiculously fun, though. So there's that.

**XxX**

It had been quite a while since the grand denizens of Hell had participated in a little get-together.

In between the sorting of souls and getting frustrated over the lack of air conditioning, there was generally not enough time in the night to spend any with all your friends.

The job came first. Rarely would one horned creature find something of more importance than the job. But every once in a while, something would happen. An event large enough to garner the attention of the populace, as well as the patience to set the VCR to record.

The one corner store would be packed to the push doors marked pull, many a demon desperate to purchase the ridiculously expensive supplies necessary for consumption during such an important time.

Too bad for them, business would have to be put on hold today.

Because it wasn't often someone opposed Sir Trigon Of Terribalus, Ruler Of All, Grand Monarch of Hell for Lyfe! (as he would often insist he be called). Yet today, the improbable happened.

And the fact that the one currently engaged in a battle to the death with him was his own daughter just made that fact all the sweeter for those watching from what was accepted to be the Meeting Hall for anyone who was someone in Hell.

"This is bullshit!" One shadowed figure roared, cracking the table beneath where his clawed fist slammed upon it, "that play was obviously in violation of the rules! I demand an umpire be present!"

"Shut your damn hole! There's nothing in the rules that condemn the turning of your opponent into a child!" Another demon snarled, the can in his grip relinquishing all of its contents to the floor as it was squeezed to nothing more than a small ball.

"Of course you would say that! You're the only one betting souls on Trigon winning!" The colourless picture on the small television shook ever so slightly, entire arguments dissipating before they could be said as the entire room held their breath.

The signal didn't cut out. Good.

"I told you!" Tempers clashed as a bony hand connected against a face that resembled nothing more than a skull, the assaulted demon's horns connecting harshly with the stone wall beside them, "I told you to get the specialised antenna, and what do you do? You buy the Walmart variety! You know how bad the signal is here! We're in the middle of the fucking Earth!"

"What do you want from me?" The demon roared back, rubbing the growing bruise on his cheek. "Walmart's as specialised as we can get!"

A piercing screech echoed through the air, causing one unfortunate damned soul to choke on the dual straws in his mouth, the liquid inside the two bottles attached to his hat bubbling along with his gasps.

"Put that fucking vuvuzela down!" The roared words were accompanied by small piece of the table before them all, the wielder of the horn choking as brightly coloured plastic was forced halfway down their throat by the projectile.

"Why the Hell are we always stuck with the terrible stu…" The muttered words paused, a slight scream in the distance audible through the silence. "Oh."

All conversation in the room died down, the picture on their tiny television switching to that of a masked man destroying a very familiar gate.

"He just robbed the bank!"

"What a dick!"

"They're not even insured!"

"Great." One deformed figured grumbled as the outrage died down, catching the attention of those around him. "Trigon's putting us out of business, and our life savings just ran away to the overworld. This place sucks."

A massive roar echoed from the small television, every head snapping to the wall on which it rested. Only given enough time to watch as Trigon launched a blood red beam at his opponent, a collection of groans arose as the ground cratered where Raven had been standing, smoke and dust arising to coat the scene.

"Hah!" Trigon's lone supported crowed, a hand shoved into the face of the demon sitting beside him. "Pay up!"

Mumbling obscenities under his breath, the creature reached for his pocket, before freezing completely, a large smile spreading across his face.

"Uh…" The hand was lowered, everyone not facing the television turning to do so. "Anytime n-"

The screen erupted in a blinding white light, Trigon's cry of agony ringing through the ridiculously low quality speakers for all to hear.

"Yeah!" An up until silent demon yelled over the general applause, a large purple flag carrying the Titan's symbol waving above his head. "Suck it, you pompous twit!"

Growling, the only demon in favour of Trigon looked away from the celebration, flinching back slightly as a hand was shoved in front of his nose.

"Hah." The owner of the hand squeaked in a mocking tone, poking the hooked nose of the demon who was currently wondering if murdering one of his own kin was possible.

"Pay up."

**XxX**

Based on headcanon #2991 over at teentitansheadcanons on Tumblr!

Yep, it was a weird one. One that I enjoyed immensely.

More to come soon. Till next time .o/

_**X**_


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